The launch, of course, was noted. Ts’ang Chieh received the information from the Qian-Ling guardian within minutes of the Talon’s departing Mars. He considered this for several moments, then relayed the information to the Ones Who Wait in Africa.
Gawain followed Merlin to a place both had been to many times before: Avalon. Gawain waited until Merlin had crossed over the water and disappeared into the top of the tor before crossing himself. Then he took another rowboat, made his way to the base of the tor, and climbed up.
He used his own medallion to enter the Watcher headquarters. Moving silently, Gawain went into the depths of the tor, searching for the errant Watcher. He found him where he expected — in the records chamber, poring over old documents. Merlin jumped to his feet in surprise as Gawain entered the room.
“How did you get in here?” Merlin demanded, his hands fumbling for a dagger tucked into his belt.
Gawain smacked the dagger out of the other man’s hand. “Sit down.”
Merlin grabbed a stool, almost fell on his first attempt, then managed to attain a perch. “Did Arthur send you after me?”
“Arthur?” Gawain spit. “You have no clue what you’ve stirred up.” He pulled the chain from underneath his armor and showed Merlin the gold medallion.
The old man’s eyes grew wide as they recognized it. “The head of my order — but you serve on Arthur’s Round Table.”
“I sit at Arthur’s Round Table to see what he — and you— are up to,” Gawain said. He pointed at the papers. “What are you searching for?”
“More information on the king.”
“Arthur?”
“The king who is to wield the sword, who is to bring prosperity back to the people. Like it was in Atlantis.”
“Atlantis? We were ruled by those creatures in Atlantis. You’re a Watcher, why would you want that?”
“But this”—Merlin held up the same parchment that Donnchadh had read the previous year—“says that a man is to wield the sword. Not an alien. Arthur is not Airlia.”
Gawain sighed. The Watchers had seemed like a good idea so many millennia ago. And the organization had worked relatively well — surprisingly well, actually. But they had never foreseen this danger.
“Not everything written is true,” Gawain said. “Some Watchers obviously let their imaginations get the better of them.”
“You are saying the prophecy isn’t true?”
“No, it isn’t,” Gawain said. “Arthur isn’t Airlia,” he continued. “But he’s not a man either.” He gestured at the documents. “Have you read in there about Shadows? Men imprinted with the alien mind?”
“Arthur?” Merlin asked.
Gawain nodded.
“And Mordred?”
“Now you’re getting the idea,” Gawain said.
Merlin put his head in his hands. “What have I done?”
Gawain came around the table and put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “You’ll have a chance to put things right before all of this is over.”
“How? What should I do?”
Gawain shook his head. “I don’t know right now, but you’ll know it when it happens.”
Donnchadh lay in the shade underneath the oak tree, staring out over the placid water of the pond. Her head was resting on her backpack and a brace of black daggers were stuck point down in the dirt next to her along with the cores of several apples.
“I heard you coming five minutes ago,” she called out.
“How did you know it was me?” Gawain asked as he appeared out of the shadows cast by the old trees.
“All these years and you ask that? I don’t have to see you to know you are near.”
Gawain nodded and didn’t comment. He threw his pack down next to his wife, then slowly sat down on top of it, moving his long sword out of the way as he did so. “What word do you bring?”
“Mordred wants to meet with Arthur.”
That gave Gawain pause. He removed his helmet and began unbuckling his chest armor as he digested the information. He sighed as he removed the heavy metal from his upper body. “Why?” he finally asked.
Morgana removed an apple from her pack and tossed it to him. He caught it and took a large bite. She took out another for herself. She chewed for several seconds, then shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about that the entire time coming here and I don’t have a clue. Mordred — Aspasia’s Shadow — is acting strangely for a Shadow. Sometimes I feel as if he has his own agenda.”
“Have you sent out word for the Watchers?”
Morgana nodded. “Couriers have been dispatched. One, who was here in England, has already arrived. I’ve made him the new Watcher of Avalon. I gave him the name Brynn after the first watcher of the tor.”
Gawain had stripped down to just a short tunic. His armor lay in a haphazard pile. He finished the apple and eyed the pond. “Do you think the water is cold?”
“Ever since Avalon, you don’t like cold water.”
“For good reason.”
“It’s the end of summer,” Morgana said. “It should be warm.”
“Want to check it out with me?”
Morgana smiled and slowly got to her feet. As Gawain went toward the water, she stripped off her garments. When Gawain glanced over his shoulder and saw this, a smile crossed his weary face.
XIX
Gawain and Morgana were spectators at the most in-teresting event they had seen in millennia. The secret meeting between Arthur and Mordred was held in the southwest of England on a craggy knoll that poked up out of a thick forest.
Arthur rode in from the north with Gawain as one of the twelve knights he had for security and Merlin by his side. Mordred approached from the southeast with four Guides and Morgana as escort. Both parties paused at the base of the knoll and dismounted. They climbed up the rocky crag until Mordred and Arthur were face-to-face, just under two meters apart. Both parties fanned out around their leaders, eyeing each other suspiciously.
Mordred was the first to speak. “You call yourself Arthur?”
The other Shadow nodded but did not speak.
Mordred looked at the sword strapped to his opponent’s waist. “You have Excalibur. Do you have the Grail?”
Arthur remained silent and Mordred flashed an evil grin. “You do not. I have heard you’ve sent your knights on a quest for it.” He looked past Arthur at Merlin. “I have heard that a meddling Watcher has hidden it.”
Arthur finally spoke. “The Grail and the sword must be returned to the Hall of Records.”
“Then why haven’t you done so?” Mordred asked.
“Because you’re here,” Arthur replied.
“And you have to deal with me before you can do what you’ve been ordered to.”
Arthur’s hand went to the pommel of Excalibur. “The truce must be maintained.”
“Why?”
Arthur frowned. “I do not understand.”
“Why should we do this? Fight each other? Return the key and the Grail to Giza? To what end?”
“Because it is our duty,” Arthur said.
Morgana caught Gawain’s eye. Both were slightly surprised that the two creatures felt comfortable speaking in front of their subordinates, but such was their arrogance that they considered the humans around them to be of no significance.
“ ‘Duty’?” Mordred laughed.
Arthur glared at him. “You are the Shadow of one who did not do his duty so it is no surprise that you do not take it seriously.”
“Aspasia did his duty,” Mordred argued. “Artad was mistaken in his rush to judgment.”
Arthur shrugged. “The evidence says otherwise.”
Mordred waved his hands, dismissing the argument. “The thing to think about, my brother in making, is that we are not Artad and Aspasia. We are Shadows of them. What do you think they will do with us when this truce is over?”